


Pride

by grim_lupine



Series: Pickpocket 'Verse [2]
Category: Ocean's Eleven (2001), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-21
Updated: 2007-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 18:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grim_lupine/pseuds/grim_lupine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guy is cocky as hell and ten times as irritating, but he walks like sin and seduction, and Linus can't pull his eyes away from his mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Companion piece to Collision.

-

\--

The guy is cocky as hell and ten times as irritating, but he walks like sin and seduction, and Linus can't pull his eyes away from his mouth.

Backed up against a wall, he bristles at the _kid_ that drops out of those lips; he's damn well had enough of that. He wants to kiss that mouth, and he wants to get laid, and then he wants to lift the guy's wallet and make him wonder what the hell just happened.

This is going to be fun.

*

Huh. Linus eyes the credit cards in front of him; if the guy's going to use fake ones, he should at least try to choose believable names.

He tosses those in a pile to his left and snorts as he follows them with a condom.

There's a twenty and a five, and he puts those on his right. The last thing in there is a picture, soft corners and rubbed a little bit, and Linus studies the lanky, long-haired boy in it. There's a stubborn, fierce look there, even as he's smiling, that looks familiar; brother, then. He turns it over: _Sammy, Stanford_.

He continues flipping the picture over for a minute and then puts it in the pile with the credit cards.

The picture looks loved; if he sees the guy again, he'll give it to him.

But he pockets the cash.

*

As luck would have it, he sees him the next day.

He actually sees the tall guy—Sam—first, because, well, it's a little bit hard to miss him.

"--on, Dean," Sam says, exasperation thick in his voice, "I had to listen to that old guy telling me stories for three hours last time. It's _your_ turn."

Linus shrugs, thinks _what the hell_. He pulls his baseball cap down further over his eyes and adjusts his glasses; he fishes the credit cards and the picture out of his pocket and holds it loosely between two fingers.

It all happens fast; he walks forward, normal pace, head down at a normal angle, looking like any normal person passing another on the sidewalk, and slides his hand forward into Dean's jacket pocket.

He feels his wrist grasped in a tight hold and looks up before he can help it.

Dean's expression changes from _who the fuck is trying to pick my pocket_ to surprise, and then amusement.

"I don't have anything in there, kid," he says, lifting his eyebrows. "See, someone took it all."

Linus narrows his eyes. He's good at what he does; he _knows_ he is. The only ones who have caught him in a lift are his dad and Danny, and Danny had been looking for it. His professional pride stung, he shifts a little until Dean lets go of him.

"How'd you catch me?" he asks, opening his hand and showing Dean the cards and the picture.

Dean smirks. "You're good, kid. But I'm a little more careful after the first time."

Sam leans over and Linus starts a little; he'd almost forgotten he was there.

"What's this?" Sam asks, picking up the picture and holding it up.

Dean flushes, and Linus can feel his lips curving up in a smirk of his own.

"I'll leave you to it," he says and walks away.

"I had twenty-five dollars in there," Dean says, raising his voice a little so Linus can hear him.

Linus says nothing, satisfaction thrumming through him.

Next time Dean checks his pocket, he'll find his twenty-five dollars.

But Linus has his watch.

\--

-


End file.
